


The Ivory Diversion

by magnedhead



Series: Eberron [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Eberron
Genre: Blood and Gore, Eberron (Setting), Fantasy, Gen, Investigations, Khorvaire (Eberron), Minor Character Death, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnedhead/pseuds/magnedhead
Summary: The Sharn City Watch receives an anonymous letter detailing a terrorist attack in the city. Watch Captain Wahlen acts quickly on the information, but as evidence starts to mount during the investigation, doubts set in.
Series: Eberron [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086731





	The Ivory Diversion

Boromin was sat quite at his desk with a pile of papers to look through and sign when he heard a commotion downstairs. The Ivory Court was a modern building in one of the towers between Dalan’s Refuge and Ocean View. A beautiful floor plan with a tiled-mosaic pattern was always visible from the balcony-like upper floor, where the employees could free from the oppressing sensation of the thousands and thousands of tonnes of stone magically suspended in the air around them. For those, like Boromin, who were relatively new to the city life, it was a welcome sensation. Now, however, that beautiful floor was taken up by a squad of men from the Sharn Watch. The majority filtered through the building towards the exits while two members began talking to various staff-members on the ground floor. 

Boromin hastily scribbled his signature on a flash-powder requisition, put his remaining work aside and leaned over the railing to his right. It was not everyday that the Sharn Watch was out in such numbers, and he wondered what could be drawing them to the Ivory Court of all places. That was when one of the waiters looked up and pointed directly at him. The watch member they had been talking to following the indication and made for the nearest stairway. Boromin’s interest rose dramatically, but so did his anxiety. The whole Court had fallen silent and everyone paused in their work to follow what was about to happen.

The two inquiring Watch-members and another four of the uniforms arranged themselves around Boromin’s desk. 

“Can I help you fine officers with something?” Boromin ventured.

One of the inquirers stepped forward. A short human man with a buttoned vest and a red cloak hanging from his shoulders. It seemed to Boromin that the man’s calm demeanour was forced. 

“Are you Boromin Laqin, stock manager for the  _ Eberron Entertainment Establishment _ ?” The watch-captain said.

Boromin nodded, more meekly than he had intended. “What is this about?”

A horrific thought floated to the top of his mind. “Is this about Esketit again? I told that vile man I would not associate with him even if we were in the depths of Khyber itself.”

The captain seemed to not hear him, running through a pre-prepared speech. “You are under arrest for suspicions of planning terrorist actions against the City of Sharn and the kingdom of Breland.”

Before Boromin could even think to protest, the four uniforms lifted him from the chair and forcefully escorted him from the building. They were halfway to Headquarters before the poor man could even think of words.

“Well handled, captain.” Iris said. They were following behind the uniforms as they escorted the prisoner to the Watch’s skyship. 

“Thank you, Iris,” Wahlen said and scanned the street around them, “I guess we all expected more resistance, didn’t we?” 

Iris nodded. A few workers from the Ivory Court had come out to protest the arrest, and Wahlen’s adjutant turned back to ward them off before Wahlen would have to deal with them. She was very capable, and he was very thankful to have her in his staff.

Wahlen turned towards the uniforms dragging Boromin away. “Take him to Headquarters and get Gachra to do the questioning.” He shouted to ensure they would hear him over the combined din of the street, airship and onlookers. 

“Soft-Touch Gachra, sir?” One of the uniforms asked. 

“Yes, Soft-Touch Gachra. And don’t let Bomo near him without my express permission, you hear me?” 

The uniform saluted and turned back to assist with the loading. The prisoner barely protested as they were loaded onto the Watch’s airship and lifted away. As Wahlen watched, the airship drifted away from the dock and into the day’s traffic. Within moments it was gone. 

“Sure about Gachra, sir?” 

Wahlen turned around. Iris had finished with the onlookers and was standing ready for orders.

Wahlen sighed and started down the street, indicating for Iris to follow. “Least we can do for the man for now. His charge is serious, very serious indeed, but it was done based on an anonymous informer. Until we have more evidence and confirmation, I don’t want to let Bomo break one of his fingers.”

“Understood, sir.” Iris said as she walked alongside him. 

Wahlen spared her another glance. Maybe it was her Shifter nature, but he had always found his adjutant hard to read. The only emotion he could identify for sure was rage, but that was obvious; growing incisors and yellowing eyes were easy to read. 

“What next, sir?” Iris asked and returned his glance. 

Wahlen looked away and focused down the street. His glance had been turning into a stare. “The suspect’s house isn’t far from here, yes?” 

“Should be down in Little Barrington, yes.” Iris replied without consulting any notes. 

“Works in Upper but lives in Middle.” Wahlen mused.

“Fairly common, sir. Upper is prestigious but expensive.” Iris replied. Wahlen knew full well that Iris lived in Middle. Wahlen himself was only able to afford living in Upper because the Watch-Captain position came with a house in the Mithral Tower. 

The Watch duo followed the street until they arrived at one of the massive descending ramps that delineated between Upper and Middle sharn. Middle and Lower had a similar system, but the infrastructure was not as decorated or clean. Wahlen shuddered to think of the few remnants of passageways from Lower Sharn into the depths below the city. 

Little Barrington was the district below Ocean View, and functioned much the same, even if the average wealth of the citizenry was diminished. Crime was low, owing in part to the regular presence of the Sharn Watch filtering down from the wealthier districts above, and the proximity of Deathsgate. Wahlen had a complicated relationship with the adventurers that Deathsgate catered to; on the one hand, they were handy allies in some cases, but they were also effectively vigilantes. 

After a short walk from the Little Barrington Ramp, Wahlen and Iris arrived at the district where Boromin Laqin lived. Vertical rows of houses had been built into the side of one of the towers that extended into Ocean View. The houses were small, bordering on tenements, but they appeared to be good quality besides. Children playing in the street were called inside when the Watch appeared in the district, and many suspicious and curious eyes looked at them from windows as Wahlen and Iris stepped up to Boromin’s front door. It was locked, as one might expect from a house where the occupant had left for work, but Wahlen had means for that. From within his vest he took out his badge of office, a platinum disc engraved with the heraldry of the City of Sharn. A very valuable object, but not just for the materials used in its construction or the obvious quality of the work. No, the true value of the badge lay in the spells that had been bound to it. Wahlen held it close to his chest and gripped the handle. The spell disengaged the lock with a loud click, and Wahlen opened the door. 

Within was an apartment much like any bachelor-apartment in Sharn. It reminded Wahlen of his early days, even if Boromin’s apartment had less beer-bottles lying around. The kitchen seemed unused, but Wahlen had noted a communal eatery in the district. 

“Iris, you start the preliminary search. Look for gang affiliation, cult affiliation, signs of unusual tools or alchemical ingredients.” 

Iris saluted. “Understood, sir.” 

Wahlen stepped outside and, using the badge, cast another spell. They would need a squad to search this place properly and the spell relayed that order to Headquarters, Wahlen trusted his staff officers with the fine details. 

Just as he was about to reenter the house, Wahlen noticed a woman walking towards him. She was short, a halfling perhaps, with two children hanging onto the skirt of her dress. It seemed to Wahlen that the eyes looking on from windows and ajar doorways grew even more interested. 

“Can I help you, mrs?” Wahlen ventured. 

“Are you with the Watch, sir?” The woman replied. 

“I am,” Wahlen replied and flashed his badge, “Captain Wahlen Gerrim of the Sharn Watch.” 

The two children reacted in their own way; one of them hid even further behind their mother’s dress and the other’s faced beamed with interest and curiosity. If their mother had not been holding onto their shoulder, Wahlen imagined they would have stormed over.

“What interest does the Watch have in Boromin’s house? That man Esketit hasn’t been around here for months.” The woman said.

Wahlen would have to look into this ‘Esketit’ man, this was the second time he had been brought up. “It’s not about him. Can I ask your name, mrs?” 

“Vera Tremon. Boromin is a good man.” The woman replied.

“Mrs Tremon, I am sure he is, but he has been accused of intent to commit a very serious crime, one we have to take seriously,” The look of protest on Mrs Tremon’s face faded away, “As Captain of the Watch I cannot give any further details, but you have my word that I will get to the truth of the matter before casting Mr Laqin for any crimes.”

Mrs Tremon excused herself and hurried her children away while Wahlen returned to the search. Iris had found several bottles of uncommon alchemical formulae, but nothing else so far. As they worked, an airship of the Watch landed at the closest dock and a squad of uniforms arrived to assist. Wahlen instructed that they avoid making a mess and damaging things as much as feasible then let them get to work. More residents of the district passed by to talk to Captain Wahlen and protest Boromin’s innocence, to which he had to repeat the same line. That the charge was serious but that he could not elaborate until they had more evidence. 

All the while, Iris and the uniforms worked. Besides the ominous bottles that Iris had found, they also found a small stack of documents hidden at the bottom of a drawer and a small sack of gold behind the headstand of the bed. The gold pieces were hardly evidence in themselves, but combined with the documents they told another story. According to them, Boromin was a sympathiser of the criminal gang called Daask. What there could be to sympathise over, Wahlen could not fathom, but only Boromin could answer that question. The documents detailed an attack that Boromin was to carry out using the means provided, which Iris guessed could be the bottles. The gold was an advance payment. More would come following the success of the attack. The attack was detailed in broad strokes and Wahlen felt a rush when the target mentioned in the documents matched up with the anonymous information that the Watch had received. The target was the very entertainment organisation that Boromin worked for, the  _ Eberron Entertainment Establishment.  _ The information had been unsure of the date but these documents set it at two days from now, so it was likely that some work had already been carried out to prepare for the attack. Wahlen spent another spell from his badge to send for a squad to investigate the Establishment’s primary building. 

After a few hours Wahlen instructed the uniforms to keep searching until their working day was up and then finish up, while he and Iris returned to Headquarters with the evidence they had gathered so far. The documents they handed on to Gachra for the questioning and the potions went to the magewright-alchemist for analysis. The gold was stuck in Boromin’s possession box for the time being. The final piece that Wahlen set into motion before moving on to the day’s administrative work was setting Iris to look into the Watch’s Daask contacts to look into other involved parties.

Two days passed. Boromin had said little except continually argue for his innocence and disclaim any connections with Daask. To tell the truth, Wahlen had his own misgivings; Boromin seemed as stand-up a citizen as any and carried no commonalities with the usual Daask members. The investigation of the Establishment had found several unknown devices scattered around the building, but they were not well hidden and Iris had ventured that they had been intended to be found. The potions sent to the alchemist were indeed hazardous; an acrid, poisonous smoke would be emitted should the liquid within be exposed to air. The devices had defied understanding and analysis as of yet, but one magewright had ventured a comparison to the explosive devices used by the Aundair terrorists during the war. Captain Wahlen shuddered at that; he had been a young boy when that attack happened, and could still remember the screams and the roar of rubble. The evidence was there, but he could not fathom why a man like Boromin would be connected. So a middle-ground was decided; Boromin Laqin was to be kept in the Sharn Watch Headquarters until sunup the next day, under heavy guard. Wahlen himself would bring a squad to keep watch at the Establishment that night to ensure no desperate attempts by hidden associates. 

On the day, Wahlen decided to bring two squads; one spread out between every entrance to the Establishment and one to help Iris and himself keep watch on the interior, dressed in their best to fit in with the crowd the Establishment catered to. Wahlen was glad to be out of his tight uniform and cloak, but also felt more exposed than he had on any other watch. Iris was dressed in a cross between a villager’s dress and a fur-lined vest that left her arms free. It looked good on her, but he had to wonder how well she could run in it, if need be. 

The Establishment was an open theatre-like building built like a half-circle focused around a stage that lined one of the walls. Here the various groups under the Establishment’s wing performed a series of musical numbers, comedies and stage plays to entertain the spectators that sat on padded wooden benches in rows before the stage. The front rows were all clearly Ocean View residents, but some of the rear seats had more middle-class spectators. The Establishment prided itself on offering quality entertainment for a reasonable price. 

All the more reason Wahlen wondered about how Boromin, an employee of the Establishment, would wish to attack it. It was a simple entertainment venue. What would anyone stand to gain? The Watch Captain pondered such questions as the stage events of the evening droned on and on, while trying his best to pay attention to the building at large. There were many backstage areas and rafters and side-passages which he could not see, but they were teeming with actors and employees, so surely a new face would be noticed and brought attention to. 

“Captain, something’s up.” Iris said and pointed to the stage.

Wahlen broke himself out of his reverie and looked to the stage, where the actors-as-trees had stopped their circular dance and were looking up. From his angle it was hard to tell whether they were playfully or actually confused. Above them a figure descended on a rope that followed them down. Like the actors on stage they wore a tree-costume, but this was a pure-white tree with black leaves. A play based on a tale from the Shadow Marshes that Wahlen was vaguely aware of. He could vaguely remember seeing the white tree on stage earlier, but the other actors had stopped dead in their dance. The descending actor greeted the spectators and then, in a move that left Wahlen lurching and Iris sprinting for the stage, transformed themselves. Their face, easily visible in contrast to the white bark of their costume, shifted first to the telltale pale visage of a changeling, and then to the appearance of Boromin Laqin, albeit with a wide grin. 

“Guardsmen, seize the changeling!” Wahlen shouted above the growing confusion in the room. But before anyone could react to Wahlen’s command, the Boromin-changeling pulled a circular device from their person and tossed it into the crowd. Wahlen barely had time to notice it before it detonated in fire and shrapnel. Confusion turned to screams of pain and terror as the crowd was decimated. At least one of his guardsmen had been incognito in the crowd, and he could see Iris stop in place then collapse. The Boromin-changeling dropped their disguise entirely to reveal a black-haired changeling woman laughing like she had just heard the finest joke in her life. 

“Seize her!” Wahlen shouted while trying to keep the desperation from his voice, but she was already escaping. The rope was rushing up towards the roof with astonishing speed and she was lost in the smoke that was rising from the decimated benches. 

The next day, Wahlen was sat at his desk in Headquarters, head between his hands. Two guardsmen and near a hundred civilians had died. Iris was injured but the doctors had assured him she would live. He was about to sign a form to order Boromin Laqin’s release when a thought struck him. Before he could ponder it much further, he was down in the cells.

“What do you want from me now?” Boromin said. The man looked dejected and lost. He did not take well to a cell.

“You are free to go,” Wahlen started and waited for Boromin’s eyes to rise and meet his.

“Just like that?” He said.

“Just like that, but I would ask your help in one thing, if you would give it.” Wahlen said.

Boromin sank back for a moment, but then his eyes narrowed and he clenched fists. “Why should I help the Watch when I was treated so unjustly?”

“To help me find out who framed you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written as a submission to Reedsy.  
> This story is written in part as world-building for a D&D campaign I am running at the time of writing.


End file.
